


Snapshots of Familial Ties

by frayingthreads



Series: Becoming a Whitebeard: Integrating Ace into a Yonko Crew [1]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Portgas D. Ace-centric, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Worth Issues, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:20:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24737554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frayingthreads/pseuds/frayingthreads
Summary: Featuring one-shots. Family, he told himself, were those you hold dear to your heart, people you long for when alone, and the ones you think of in your brightest or darkest moments. You don't become family just because you are labelled as one. For Ace, taking his place as Whitebeard's son meant accepting a whole lot of siblings too. It was his greatest challenge yet.
Relationships: Fushichou Marco | Phoenix Marco & Portgas D. Ace, Portgas D. Ace & Shirohige | Whitebeard | Edward Newgate, Portgas D. Ace & Thatch, Portgas D. Ace & Whitebeard Pirates
Series: Becoming a Whitebeard: Integrating Ace into a Yonko Crew [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1788724
Comments: 5
Kudos: 82





	Snapshots of Familial Ties

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone,
> 
> Cross-Posted on FF.net. This is actually the 17th chapter, not the 1st. The other chapters are on FF.net, but I'm just too lazy to drag them all over. Search for Fraying Threads on that platform if you're keen to read the other chapters, alright! Most of these chapters are one-shots, so it's not necessary to read the rest.
> 
> I hope all of you are keeping safe and well! This is the first part of one chapter. The chapter is way longer than I had anticipated, so I just cut it off here to publish it first. The next part should be up soon.
> 
> Few things to note: Ace is only a month into joining the Whitebeard crew here. Hence, the crew is NOT aware that he has narcolepsy or that he needs to eat a lot. So he's been eating normal food portions for a month. There's no drama here, much. Just a sort of slice of life I indulged myself in. So do enjoy! Other discussion notes at the end of this chapter.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or any of its characters.

Ace kept his head bowed, his eyes fixed on the map pinned to the table before him, occasionally tracking the fingers that would point at particular places of interest as a low voice droned on behind him. He had to summon a ridiculous level of discipline to resist the urge to twitch, to even stretch his legs because, heck, he had been seated at this table for over an hour and he had never been a good student (except when Makino had given him lessons on manners, he supposed.).

In his defence, if he would allow himself the space to grumble, it had been a long day, as clearly indicated as it was by the darkened skies that cast the room into creeping shadows. Little light filtered through the open windows of Marco's bedroom. It was only the flickering golden light of the candles that kept aglow the documents and paperwork that the commander had wanted to go through with Ace before the night was out.

If only the fire-user had known the man's intentions, he inwardly lamented. He wouldn't have dragged himself out of bed so early and then stayed up all day if he knew the comfort of sleep was yet far beyond his reach. It was exhausting enough trying to be all smiles and cheer to strangers who were now his crew mates (and honestly, was he meeting _different_ people every day? How many were there?!). But repeating the same old introduction and small talk typical of new acquaintanceships multiple times a day over _weeks_ was painfully draining. It sucked the life out of him worse than when sea stone sapped away his life energy.

But, no matter how much Ace wanted to refuse Marco's quiet request to meet him after dinner so they could go over his upcoming mission in a week, he found he couldn't do it. The division commander had watched over him since he was brought to the Moby Dick. He had cared for the teen in a way no one else had. He wasn't turned away at Ace's worst, hadn't even blinked when the ex-captain succumbed to his base instincts and lashed out at him in a violent burst of agitated fury. Heck, the teen remembered with reddened cheeks, the man had allowed himself to be hit – to _bleed_ – and had only put a stop to the outburst when Ace had turned that same rage towards himself. So how could he say no when Marco only wanted to help him in his assigned mission? When the man himself sported dark circles under his own eyes and yet was so willing and ready to give up another restful night to help a freckled rookie?

The fire-user was so lost in his thoughts he didn't realise the voice had stopped.

"Ace?"

Ace jumped when a warm hand touched his shoulder, and he swivelled round to see Marco watching him with a frown.

Oh no. He wasn't paying attention. He was going to get punished, wasn't he? He was only a month in as a fresh recruit and already he was messing up like an unruly child unable to hold still.

Marco's frown deepened. "Are you alright, yoi?" he asked, his voice as tranquil as the sea on a sunny morning. "You've been tense for the past half hour."

Ace nodded his head in short, jerky motions. "Yes! Um, I was focusing on what you said, paying attention and everything, yes." He turned away to look pointedly at the map once more. "You were talking about…the plan."

A bout of silence greeted him. The younger pirate could feel the other's gaze drilling into his back in probably tired confusion, but he didn't quite have the nerve to turn and check for himself. He tried instead to recall what had been discussed the past hour but all that came to mind was an incoherent mess of information. Damn. What if Marco asked him questions about the plan and he was unable to answer? What if he took that silence as an unwillingness on Ace's part to cooperate?

Ace's increasingly disruptive monologue was interrupted by another touch to his hand.

"Ace, yoi."

Marco only continued speaking when the freckled pirate turned to look at him. To the teen's mortification, the older man had knelt next to him, lowering himself to meet Ace's eye level. His arm snaked around the documents that sat centred on the table. The positioning, as if intentional, forced Ace to face him fully, to obligingly turn his body lest he looked rude.

There was another breath of silence before Marco asked, "Did I lose you?"

Ace blinked. "What?" A wild thought came unbidden to his mind and he straightened in immediate horror. "No! I'm not leaving!" he exclaimed. Then, as if something else occurred to his frazzled mind, he added: "D-did you want me to?"

Marco's handsome features turned inexplicably blank. For the barest moments, Ace thought the man was repressing some form of emotion from crossing his countenance, with the way the latter turned stiff before relaxing once again. The corners of his lips twitched and there was that twinkle in his cerulean eyes, much like the way the stars blinked against the morning skies. "I meant to ask," he said, "if I had been too boring in my instruction for your coming mission, Ace."

Oh. Right.

The teen resisted the urge to rub the back of his neck at his stupid mistake. He'd have to lean back awkwardly if he didn't want to knock his now ship-brother away. And, no, he wasn't going to make a fool of himself tonight. Not again. So, instead, he settled for a sheepish smile. "Yes, yes, of course that's what you meant."

"Is that 'yes' also an agreement that I was boring?"

"W-what? No! You're not boring! You tell the best stories and I love listening to you." Ace was suddenly struck with the real notion that Marco might have taken his inattention as a lack of appreciation for his efforts. Damn it! What if the blonde decided to stop altogether? While Ace was too embarrassed to ever verbalise his admiration for the man, his inherent predisposition to honesty prevented him from denying to _himself_ that Marco held his high regard. The blonde embodied the sort of quiet strength and iron-clad calmness that often left the teen in awe. So unlike his own fiery temper and crass words. (So damned _cool_.) It didn't help that Ace naturally gravitated to him nowadays too. Despite the relief of having made the decision to join Whitebeard's ranks, the transition from enemy to _family_ was still jarring enough – alien enough – that Ace couldn't feel comfortable around anyone at all. That Marco had been his one pillar of consistency and support throughout his pre-Whitebeard phase… The idea that the man would turn away from him, that _Ace_ would fade into one of the many hundreds of Whitebeard siblings spurred the next torrent of words that burst forth from his parted lips:

"I'm serious! I don't know why you'd even think you're boring. You're always too kind with your words and you take the time to explain why something is the way it is so I'd understand. I don't even understand half the things the other guys say because they don't usually give me the whole picture. And you paint this whole _picture_ – of the seas and the sky and the battles and lessons you've learnt and your thoughts – that I can see in my head even though I wasn't even there. It's like your stories come alive. How could you say you're boring?" Ace waited in muted dread when all Marco did was look at him with slightly widened eyes. "I'm serious!" the teen insisted. "You're not boring!"

Marco continued watching him with that uncharacteristic wide eyes. He voiced no words, though Ace began to faintly wonder if the man was okay with the way his lips kept twitching. A light tinge of red dusted the commander's cheeks.

Ace leaned forward to peer at the older man in confusion. "Marco?" He waved a hand when the other didn't even blink. "Are you…there?"

The blonde came to life when the freckled pirate finally tapped him on his shoulder. He shook himself, as if ridding his person of whatever it was that had momentarily afflicted him, then offered Ace an embarrassed smile. "I'm sorry, yoi," he said. Then, despite sounding genuinely apologetic, the man continued with a faint smirk, "I didn't expect you to suddenly gush compliments at me."

Ace spluttered. "I was being honest!"

Marco ruffled at the younger man's hair playfully. "I know. Still took me off guard." The amused smile morphed into something sincere. "Thank you, Ace. For _your_ kind words. I appreciate your honesty and I'm thankful you appreciate my long-winded stories." To his credit, the man must have sensed the discomfort that immediately engulfed the teen at his words, for he went on without missing a beat: "Although, to be fair, I was briefing you about your mission, yoi. There must be a limit on how interesting that could get."

Right. Ace should have known he was going to make a fool of himself regardless of his desperate attempts to look reliable and _not-childish_. He scrunched his nose in unhappiness. "So? I could still find that interesting," he muttered defensively.

"Is that why I repeated the same sentence three times and you just went on nodding?"

"What? I did not!"

"You did. Even if you hadn't, I did repeat it three times."

"Did it occur to you that I heard you but didn't want to embarrass you? I can be considerate too, you know!"

Marco had that tell-tale gleam in his eyes that screamed how ridiculously amused he was at this exchange. "Alright then, yoi. _Thank_ you, Ace, for not embarrassing me by acknowledging my repeated sentences as if I made sense. I appreciate it too."

Ace bristled in response. "You're so mean." He turned the chair so that he was facing the map again. He was also petty enough to swipe at the older pirate's arm that still rested on the table. "Go on then," he said grumpily, "blow me away with your expertise, commander."

There was a rustle next to him as the blonde stood up. "I don't think so," Marco said. "You've been nodding off the past ten minutes. We can continue another day."

Ace closed his eyes. Of course the man noticed. "I can still go on," he insisted as he inclined his head to look at his ship-brother. "It's only past ten."

Marco shook his head. "You need rest, yoi. There's no rush," he said kindly. He raised a finger when the younger man moved to speak again. "And I need to rest too."

And that by default negated any argument Ace could ever have to plead his continued say in the cabin. He slumped in defeat. Darn guy for knowing how to fight his battles. "Fine," he grudgingly acquiesced. He could always try to redeem himself and his image come morning.

Ace stood and stretched, wincing when he swore his lower body cracked at the pressure. "Can't have you blaming me when your age's the problem."

A snort.

"I was going to invite you to the kitchens for a short snack before bed, but clearly you're a brat who deserves no snacks."

A pause. "Wait, I want snacks!"

"I did all the talking. I deserve them all, yoi."

"You don't even like snacks!"

"I enjoy them once in a while."

"Back off, you fire turkey!"

A twitch. "Look at that, yoi. 'Once in a while' is today."

"Marco!"

* * *

Marco restrained a tired sigh and allowed himself to flop gracelessly onto the chair Thatch had dragged out for him. "Where's Namur?" he asked as he swiped at the dining table with the rough pads of his palm. Once he confirmed it was dry, he dropped the stack of papers he had been carrying onto the wooden surface, caring not for it at the moment unless anyone threatened to spill their breakfast on his nights of hard work.

"Went for a swim," Izo answered from across the table. The pirate flicked him a warning glance. "Don't look for him unless you'd like a swim yourself."

"I need to confirm when we'll return to Fishman Island, yoi. Navigation is already asking to confirm our course for the next month."

Jozu, who was seated beside the kimono-clad pirate, looked unimpressed. "Last time you sought out Namur yourself when he was in the sea, you didn't tell anyone, flew too close to the water, and then almost drowned," he deadpanned.

"Yes, Marco. I know we say you're unnecessary most times, but you don't have to martyr yourself to prove a point," Izo said as he nibbled on the edges of his morning toast. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, looking all too pleased with what he must imagine to be a witty jest.

A cheerful voice added to the conversation from beside the Phoenix. "So lesson of the morning is: Don't do it, Marco!" Thatch quipped with a grin. "You always fly too far and even fantastic swimmers like myself find the seas a mighty enemy, you know."

Marco suppressed the sigh that was building in his throat at the immediate rejection. He was bullied so often it was a wonder nobody cared for his poor health. One time he messed up and they still brought it up five years down the road. Petty little brats. "Thanks for the reminder, Izo, Jozu. How could I possibly forget that incident everyone reminds me of every week? And you, airhead, just admit you have no talent, Thatch."

To no one's surprise, the chef's outraged outcry at the insult rang the loudest. "You'd say that and _still_ eat my food, you hypocrite."

"I'm not picky and I need it to stay alive, yoi. Unless you want me in the kitchens to make my own meal, I suggest you pass me those sandwiches willingly."

"I don't know what people see in you," Thatch said sulkily. He dragged the plate nearer to the blonde man regardless, but not without throwing the latter a look of mock indignation. "I don't know why _Ace_ – the guy who probably needs the most discipline and looking after – likes you the most either." Then, as if his words caught up with him, the brunette snorted to himself. "Right. Of course _that's_ why he likes you the most."

Marco entertained the merits of going down that lane but decided it wasn't worth the hilarity when he already felt drained at eight in the morning. "Where is Ace, yoi?"

Izo cast the dining hall a cursory glance. "He hasn't joined us for breakfast for over a week now."

Thatch nodded. "I wouldn't worry about it, Marco," he said quickly before the blonde could look alarmed. "I went to search for him a few days ago and turned out he was sleeping in. He's probably still in bed now."

But the kid had morning watch at nine, the blonde remembered. If he didn't get up now, he'd have to go without food until lunch, and teens his age needed a lot of sustenance, didn't they? Marco worried his bottom lip as he wondered if the kid would appreciate him checking in. Ace was still too new to the crew, too freshly minted. They were still learning how to live with each other, to recognise each other's boundaries and to settle into a new normal that was comfortable for everyone – well, for the kid especially since he was now part of over-a-thousand-people crew. Marco wouldn't have bothered too much if it had been any other sibling but…

Marco yelped when a hard boot slammed into his foot. "What was that for?!" he near squawked at the smirking sixteenth commander.

"You had your mother hen expression on," his brother said primly. "Thatch _just_ told you not to worry."

The Phoenix affixed the man with an unhappy glower. "And you had to kick me for it? I haven't even had my breakfast, yoi."

"If I hit you for every time that expression crosses your face, not even your healing ability could save you, brother dear. You should thank me for my self-control."

"Self-control, sure," Marco muttered under his breath.

"How is Ace, anyway?" Jozu interrupted before the two could continue squabbling.

"I can't quite tell," the first commander answered. He munched on his sandwich as he thought over his words. "It's a little worrying. He was loudmouthed and abrasive before he joined us, and when he did, he's grown a little too quiet that the change seems…concerning."

Marco knew he wasn't the only one to have caught on to the abrupt change in behaviour. Ace had turned meek and uncertain the same afternoon it was announced that he would join their ranks. Most had attributed it to the awkwardness of transitioning from enemy to crew member (and hopefully family), but weeks had turned into a month and still the kid shied away from large crowds and kept himself close to the blonde commander and (to no one's surprise) the ever cheerful Thatch. He didn't share anything about himself, didn't contribute much to conversation other than quick nods and curt answers, and remained hesitant to partake in group activities (that they sometimes held with the sole purpose of including him).

Whitebeard's response when the first commander brought it to his attention was to send the kid on a mission with a few members of the second division. No commander was to tag along to allow Ace room to breathe without any authority figure looming over him (did he feel uncomfortable that he was no longer Captain anymore and had to answer to several other people now?).

Despite his doubts, Marco was hopeful that it would work. Ace had more than once proved himself to be unnaturally cheery even in the worst circumstances. He'd be fine…right?

"I don't know if this should be a matter of concern as well," Jozu said gruffly. "But I have heard from my division that he refuses to engage with them. You know how they like a good afternoon drink or a round of cards?" He didn't pause to see if anyone answered him. "They say that Ace would look at them from afar, bound over to ask what they were doing, and then promptly leave when they asked him to join in. Every single time."

Thatch frowned. He dropped his chin onto his closed fist while his fingers on his other hand tapped the top of the table in untimed beats. "That's strange… Maybe he's still shy," he offered after a minute of contemplative silence. "Namur didn't really speak with anyone on the crew until six months in."

"Probably because we had ignorant siblings who tried to chase him from the family," Izo rebutted gently. "Namur was uncomfortable. He didn't know if we all shared the same prejudices."

An incident that had triggered a massive outcry too. The Whitebeards had had to mandate all members to attend a month-long seminar that impressed upon the dangers of prejudice in an already divided world. It had been a gruelling, painful, emotional, educational, and yet so desperately needed for such a large crew. A worrying thought nagged at the blonde's mind as he recalled the crew's earlier days.

"You don't think Ace is disrespected, do you, yoi?"

The sixteenth commander lowered his mug of coffee from his lips, expression pensive. "I…" He paused as he considered the question more seriously. "I don't know. I hardly see him around these days."

Jozu asked, "Doesn't he hang around mostly you and Thatch?"

"Well, yeah," the chef said. "But he's milder now. He's not aggressive anymore, and he's _so_ adorable whenever he thanks me for feeding him, but he doesn't really speak much with me."

The other pirates nodded. Then, without missing another beat, they turned to look at the Phoenix expectantly.

"He's cheeky, that's for sure," Marco volunteered. He wondered how much he should divulge. He already felt guilty simply speaking of the teen so casually to his brothers. "He's compliant and attentive, but he seems rather afraid to let me know how he truly feels." _Or to tell him if anyone else was making his life unnecessarily hard._

Izo appeared to share his thoughts. "We are either worrying unnecessarily or Ace is hiding something terrible," he mused. "He may have joined us, but that doesn't mean he trusts us fully. It's clear he's still uncomfortable, and if we do have siblings who's been bothering him…" He shook his head with a soft sigh. "He doesn't even have the mark yet."

Which also meant Ace could leave any time. He could take back his choice to stay and leave without any consequences. No lecture on removing the mark (not that they would have the heart to, usually), no final farewells, no conversation to discuss why one decided they didn't want the family anymore.

Ace may have just joined the crew, but one of Marco's terrible faults was his ability to attach himself to someone once he allowed himself to let go. He wouldn't stop the kid, but the blonde had always ( _always_ ) hated goodbyes.

"I'll see if I can speak with him tonight, yoi," Marco finally said. "If he'd like to."

* * *

Marco knocked on Ace's door as the clock struck nine in the evening. He kept it to three swift knocks, calling softly under his breath his brother's name, and repeated it once more after a beat when he received no response. His closed fist hovered over the door frame, ready to try again when he heard faint footsteps padding across the floor quickly as if the person inside was running.

The door opened to reveal a wide-eyed fire-user. And it was no figure of expression either. The kid's grey orbs were blown unnaturally wide, as if the kid were intentionally keeping himself from blinking.

"Marco!" the kid said, sounding genuinely surprised. "Did you need something?"

Marco shook himself. Really, that Ace was trying his best imitation of a statue's blinking habits was irrelevant. He raised the cloth-wrapped package in his hand. "You missed dinner, yoi."

The way the kid's entire body perked up at the personal delivery should be a crime. Ace bit his lip in a poor attempt to conceal his delight. "You didn't have to bring it to me," he said, not sounding at all grieved by the older man's inconvenience. He held open the door in invitation. "Would you like to come in?"

Marco was unable to answer as a hand pawed at his to usher him in without waiting. He hovered by the door and waited as Ace practically snatched his dinner from the commander's grip and rushed it to the dresser stacked against the wall. The room was small, after all. It couldn't accommodate more than the single unmade bed that was pushed to the corner of the cabin, the small dresser and an accompanying side-table that measured not more than 20 centimetres on each side. New and low-ranking recruits would normally bunk with others of their rank, but Ace had made it clear one night that that wasn't an option for him.

" _What? Why can't I bunk with them anymore?"_

_Whitebeard peered at his youngest son with an expression that was torn between fond amusement and indulgent tolerance. As if he couldn't make up his mind and choose on either feeling. "You set your bed on fire, son," he said. He didn't, however, stop himself from grinning at the visual that sentence painted in his mind. "Some people don't like that."_

_Ace drew back at the answer. He flicked his gaze from the Yonko to the other commanders present – Marco and Vista – and back to the Yonko once more. The corners of his lips curled downwards in clear unhappiness. "I could learn," he argued weakly. "I had a nightmare. It happens."_

_Whitebeard considered the boy for the longest moments. "Most people would like a room of their own," he remarked._

_The answering twitch at the younger's eye was answer enough:_ I am not most people.

_Marco stepped forward. "I thought you would have preferred this, yoi," he said. "You were a Captain before this."_

" _Yeah? I shared with the rest of them too."_

_More and more surprises, it seemed. It was commonly discourteous for Captains to have to share with others. Looks like the crew had yet to learn so much more about this new brother of theirs. "I see," Whitebeard said as he nodded in apparent seriousness. From the contemplative (and charmed) look on his face, the Phoenix just knew his old man would indulge their youngest' desires. "Marco, give him another room for his temporary use. He can move back in once he's learnt to control his sleeping habits."_

_Marco found he didn't mind. "Of course, Oyaji."_

" _Ah, Ace," Whitebeard called before the younger boy could trot after their resident Phoenix. He rubbed the base of his chin in his version of fatherly concern. "Now, what's this I hear about a nightmare?"_

The blonde had later learnt that Ace had grown up sharing close spaces with another and was loathed to give it up. To the teen, sharing such spaces meant affection and acceptance. Marco could only hope this temporary arrangement was not taken as rejection. The blonde would have chosen a more comfortable room for his newest brother to ease the change, but they had few empty spaces as it were. The cabin the kid had used previously before he had joined was out of the picture too, after Whitebeard had accidentally thrown his children through it in a mock fight.

A pleased groan dragged the commander's attention back to the teen. "You have no idea how happy I am I joined this crew." Ace shoved another spoonful into his mouth. "Thatch's food will always be worth it."

Marco clucked his tongue in disapproval when the impatient brat continued shovelling down his dinner like a starved man ready to guard his last dinner from the wolves. "Slow down, yoi." He gently grabbed at the teen's hair to draw him back from face planting into his plate. His other hand he pressed the plate to the table to prevent the kid from lifting it up with him. "You'll choke."

Ace shot him an odd look. There were scattered remnants of rice and fish bits plastered to his jaw, and Marco had to hide a smile at the overall picture of innocent youth presented so easily to him. "So?" the kid grumbled. "You're here. You won't let me die."

"Have you considered the possibility that I might not succeed? Having another person doesn't guarantee you'd survive."

"Well, if your faith in your life saving skills is that poor, then maybe I should be concerned."

The blonde's eyebrow twitched. He tugged the younger's raven locks in warning. "It means you should be careful, you brat."

"Sure, sure." Despite the sarcastic agreement, the teen slowed down enough that the older man deemed it safe to let go his grip on both the person and the plate.

Once he was sure Ace was going to behave without physical interference, he walked over to the unmade bed, pushing aside the blankets that had already been flung half across the mattress and half trailing over the floor, to settle himself as he waited for an opportune time to bring up his earlier concerns. Not that the kid could run away with how focused he was on his meal anyway.

"Are you that hungry?" Marco asked when he saw Ace was still eating as fast when his plate was already near empty. Heck, the kid even looked crestfallen when he realised the same thing. "I could get you more," he offered.

To his masked surprise and pleasure, the kid took about two seconds to decide that he really wanted that extra portion for he threw the older man a pleading look in lieu of a verbal answer. Marco snorted and signalled for the boy to wait while he returned shortly.

It was about time, really, he thought as he ran the quick errand. Ace never took them up on their offers, always acted as if his every want was an added burden he didn't want on their shoulders. It was a good sign that the kid felt more willing to impose on his family members now and again.

The trip to the kitchens and back took less than fifteen minutes and soon he was seated once more, watching his youngest brother try his absolute best to down everything in record time.

"Next time you decide to skip breakfast and dinner, yoi," he commented dryly, "remember that you get hungry later in the day."

Ace graced him with a muffled snort.

"So how have you been holding up, Ace?" Marco ventured after another intermittent bout of silence.

The kid wiped at his mouth. He glanced at the commander curiously, his head tilting in that odd fashion, as if considering what was being asked of him with serious thought. To the kid's credit (and slightly redeeming himself in the field of self-discipline), he pushed away his half-empty plate to turn and face the older man.

A wry smile stretched the teen's boyish features. "Is that why you're here?" he asked, his grey eyes gleaming under the candle's glow. "To check up on me?"

The particular phrasing of the words reeked of accusation, but there was nothing but soft amusement in the younger's voice. Marco shrugged carelessly. "I would check on you during mealtimes like normal people, but you don't turn up for them."

"I was there for lunch."

"And I wasn't."

"That's not my fault."

Marco returned the barely disguised smile thrown his way. "I'm here now, aren't I?"

Ace finally gave in to throw a bright grin at him. His shoulders lifted into an easy shrug. "I've been good, I guess," he said. "Everything's still new, and everyone's still new. It still feels weird that I'm not supposed to yell at everyone anymore."

Oh, and had that not been the joke of the month. Ace had only just joined the crew two days prior, when he had exited his shared room to accidentally bump into passing members of the third division. The kid hadn't even missed a beat. His clenched fists had gone up in flames as he let loose a tirade of insults, only to stop three seconds in as reality kicked him awake when he saw his crewmates' easy-going smiles morph into offended confusion. By the fifth second, kid's countenance was doing an impressive contortion between mortified disbelief and pure embarrassment, before he had grabbed at his poor victims' hands to beg their merciful forgiveness.

" _I'm so, so, so sorry. I forgot! I thought we were still enemies. I'm sorry!"_

The commanders had had to interfere when the kid had turned teary-eyed when all he received in response was a shocked silence. Which in itself had been another punch to the gut when the kid turned watery grey eyes their way as he helplessly gestured at the pirates before him. Turned out it wasn't just the ex-Captain who found it difficult to adapt to the new-normal. How was it even possible for someone as belligerent as Ace to look so clench-in-the-chest woeful with one look alone? (Although he later would reason that such wretched expressions would appear out of place on older siblings. He only had to imagine Thatch.)

It would, however, still make a hilarious tale to bring up at dinnertime once Ace was truly settled in their ranks. Marco looked forward to it.

"Right, yoi. I keep waiting for you to launch yourself at someone in a burst of rage, but you've been coping well."

Ace reddened at the words. He shot the commander an unimpressed glare. Folding his arms, his bottom lip twitched in what could only be a pout (that former Spades first mate had firmly warned everyone present to _never_ point it out), his narrowed stare not diminished in the least. "It was humiliating," he retorted. "It was bad enough I stand out like a sore thumb. I had to be stupid enough to do that too."

"I'm sure it won't be your worst," Marco said easily. "We all make our fair share of embarrassing incidents. I remember Oyaji falling face first into ice when he tried to ice skate, _despite_ our repeated warnings that the ice was too thin for his weight." The blonde shook his head in fond remembrance. "Went right through the ice a second later. We needed all fifteen commanders and a couple others to keep him afloat and out of the water." Another thought came to mind and he snorted. "Old man had the nerve to accuse us of letting him linger in the cold waters longer than was necessary."

Ace, who had looked increasingly incredulous, burst into laughter. "That didn't happen." At the older man's serious look, a look of absolute glee crossed his features. "Seriously? And did you? Leave him in there on purpose."

Marco mimed zipping his lips with his fingers before throwing away an imaginary key. "We'll never know, yoi," he answered, grinning when that same incredulity on the younger pirate turned devilish. (It was true. Marco had flown above the griping old man as his talons held tight the ropes that wound around his stupid adoptive father. He could have dragged the Yonko out in seconds after that – and the old man knew it too – but he had pretended the waterlogged pirate was too heavy for him to do it alone. Ah. Petty revenge.)

"He didn't get mad at you, did he?"

"Oh no, yoi." Marco smirked. "But he did refuse to take my offered sake as a peace offering for a week."

Ace winced. "Oh, he must have been mad."

"Sulky, more like it. He's always up to things he _knows_ he shouldn't be doing." The commander raised his hands as he spoke, checking off each finger for another point he raised. "He drinks too much sake, ignores his medicine if no one checks on him, stays out late in the cold, refuses to wear something warm _despite_ the cold, sneaks food he knows is not for him, and he keeps asking for our sake instead of getting his own, yoi." Despite his words, Marco shook his head in fond exasperation at his old man. Really, he deserved an award and a lifetime supply of his own sake to reward his hard work. "This is just the tip of the iceberg too."

The kid regarded the blonde with a look of acute interest. "You must love him a lot."

Marco laughed lightly. "Will probably take me to my grave. It I weren't a Devil Fruit user, I might be as grey as the sea is blue."

The Phoenix would later look at this moment and wonder if this had been the turning point for the two of them. Ace was looking at him with rapt attention. The way he held himself – away from his meal, back straight, his bright eyes seemed to penetrate so searchingly into his, the way he seemed so at ease with himself in a manner so alien that Marco had had to wonder what it was that struck him as strange… The blonde had had his fair share of younger siblings looking up to him, but Ace looked at him as if he held all the answers in the world. It both flattered and unnerved him.

The older pirate had always taken it upon himself to look after newer recruits. Integrating into an extremely (and wasn't that a poor descriptor?) large crew was difficult. Creating and binding ties with so many others were a herculean task too. It was no surprise then that he had taken Ace under his figurative wing – an even more weighted task given how young the kid was and the way he'd joined their ranks. Everyone knew their newest youngest sibling would need more careful attention than previous new recruits and were more than happy to leave their oldest brother to the task.

There were recruits he watched over and let go once they were comfortable enough. There were those who he got along especially well with and remained fast friends with today. And then there were those he connected with on a more intrinsic level. Not for any failings or lack of from previous new siblings, but more of the ever-mysterious phenomenon that brought two far off and distinct strangers together to form one of the most precious human relationships known to the world. He didn't know what it was about this fiery teenage kid that he was so fond of, but he was pleased to find that, once more, he could add to his short list of close siblings. He was almost sure the kid felt the same.

"Thank you," Ace finally said when he raised an eyebrow at the silent attention. The teen gestured vaguely about himself as if to indicate everything. "For checking up on me. I know you have more important things to deal with than all of this."

Marco quirked a smile. And weren't such polite and thoughtful mannerisms such a surprise for the crew? "Wouldn't want you to tear down the kitchens when you finally head to the hall for food, eh?" Before the kid could rebut with another of his cheeky retorts, he went on, "Have you been getting along with everyone just fine, yoi?"

Ace clasped his fingers together, then let go, before rubbing the palms of his hands against each other. "I don't know," he said after a pause. "Everyone's real nice, and it's great that my former crew is around so there's familiar faces about. It's not a–" then, quite suddenly, the teen's expression shifted several times, from what the blonde thought was pensiveness to confusion to indecisiveness.

"You don't have to tell me," the older man assured. He raised his hands in what he hoped was a soothing gesture. "We can talk about something else."

Unlike the desired calmness he was going for, Ace instead took on a rather frustrated countenance. He dragged his hand through his already messy hair. "Look, I want to tell you," he said so honestly it stunned the blonde into silence. "I just- I trust you, okay? I _have_ to. I made the decision to join you guys, and if I don't trust you, if I can't bring myself to, then I shouldn't have." The kid let out a loud breath before sucking in oxygen as if he were deprived. "I'm doing good. It's hard sometimes. There are so many people that I keep feeling I'm starting all over again and again. And I don't always remember all of them, but I don't want to offend them by not remembering who they are. And, everything's so new and I'm learning so many things I hadn't even known were important, and it's just…it's been quite overwhelming, to say it frankly."

Marco couldn't help but smile at the rushed words. He would have bumped the kid on the forehead if he were near enough. "That's a lot of feelings you have, yoi," he said, deciding to take a risk. "I thought you were just all anger and annoyance compressed into the form of a pirate."

Ace's boyish features immediate shift into a glower sent the older man into snickers. "Alright, alright," he laughed when the teen sent an adorable fireball his way. Marco dissipated it with a wave of his hand. "It takes a long while to settle well, yoi," he said with an assuring smile. "Remembering names and putting them to faces will always take time, and it's only expected that you need time to get a hang of things. Heck, Thatch's assistant chef burned down the kitchens four times before we all learnt to have a smaller but fully functional kitchen near the back just in case. I hope you will bear with this for a while more. You've made the choice. I promise you that we'll prove it's worth it."

Ace had by now moved to rub his hands against the leg of his pants in absent-minded fashion. "Alright," he said after a while. He shot the commander a winning smile. "You always make it seem so simple. Thanks! It made me feel better. I really don't know how you do it."

Marco shrugged. "Thatch always said my only skill is to talk, yoi," he said lightly.

The kid snorted. "Of course he'd say that."

"Speaking of the crew, we have a weekly card game on Wednesday mornings. Would you like to join us for a round or two tomorrow? I'll help introduce you to the others."

"Card games?"

"You don't like it?"

Ace looked indecisive. "No, no, I love it," he said quickly. "What time is it?"

"We do it right after an early breakfast. Say, about 7.30 in the morning?"

The kid nodded, but somehow refused to look the blonde in the eye. "Sure. 7.30. That's fine."

Marco thought of pursuing this line of odd behaviour but stopped himself from going too far. He was probably thinking too much. "I'll see you then, yoi?"

"You're leaving?"

"I have some paperwork to turn in by tonight. I should get to it."

Ace stared at him in askance. "It's almost 10, Marco. Do you even have enough time?"

Marco didn't bother to stifle his laughter at the kid's incredulity at the idea of work. "I'm almost done. I just like to go over them one more time. And it's a deadline I set for myself so it's all fine."

"Right. Okay. Thanks for dinner! Um, don't spend too much time on your paperwork."

"Good night, Ace."

* * *

Ace watched with tentative sort of warmth as the blonde commander disappeared from view. He had made the right choice, he was sure, in confiding in the man. He felt somewhat lighter already.

It was an…odd change, to say the least, for him. The fire-user wasn't used to expressing himself. He had tried his best with Luffy to create a home environment that was open and safe (in a way Makino had attempted to impart to him), but he had done what he could with what he knew. It wasn't until he sailed that he discovered how ignorant he had been and still was, and how much he had lacked as a guardian for his little brother. The thought always weighed heavy on his heart.

He wanted to change that now. When he accepted Whitebeard's offer, he was determined to alter his life course for the better. He aspired to become a better brother- a kinder brother. And that began with trust. For Ace, that meant revealing parts of himself to the people who called themselves his family. Information could mean life and death in this world, after all, he thought grimly.

Trust too was built from quality time. It was a hard concept to grasp for a teenager who had grown up mostly with a much younger, hyperactive kid. He loved Sabo just as much despite his short life. Cared for Dadan, Grandpa, and Makino just the same. Knowing that he was loved was enough.

"Alright then," he muttered to himself as he fought hard against the ever pressing need to return to the land of dreams.

He eyed his mussed bed in faint regret. At least he had slept at least an hour or two when Marco dropped by. But if quality time was that important…

Where could he find cards to practise with?

He really should have told Marco he didn't know how to play.

* * *

Haruta peeked at his oldest brother in slight worry. "I'll have to leave soon for my morning watch," he trailed off. Other members of the crew by now had already left for their own duties, leaving only the few commanders lingering with small chatter as they waited for their newest member to join them.

Marco tilted his head at his direction, though his eyes remained fixed on the corridor leading to the rooms below. "He said he'd come, yoi," he muttered.

The fourth commander swept in to squeeze the blonde's shoulder in reassurance. His gaze followed the Phoenix's line of sight for the briefest moments. An expression of disappointment crossed his features before he wiped it away with a crooked smile. "It's already 8.30 and we've played enough rounds for the morning," he said. "He probably slept in."

"He does seem pretty tired these days," Haruta added helpfully.

Marco heaved a sigh. "I suppose," he agreed. He turned away from the ship to wave at scattered cards. "One last round before we start the day?"

And because they knew their brother was disappointed by the (un)expected turnout, they returned to their positions, already planning ahead to destroy the other's chances of winning.

After all, Marco deserved only the best fights. And he hated sympathy.

(And yet, with the way his eyes crinkled in confusion, they couldn't help their own frustration at their newest recruit.)

* * *

Ace wanted to drown himself, revive himself, and then throw himself back into the sea.

He had fallen asleep, his drool-covered cheeks plastered against game cards on his dresser table, as time passed by and it hit eleven in the morning. So not only had he missed the card game he had promised to attend to the one person he felt somewhat comfortable with on this ship, he had missed his morning cleaning duty too. And breakfast.

What sort of man would he be if he strutted in for lunch without shame too?

Ace threw back his head in despair. He wasn't getting the hang of this at all. There were too many things to do and learn in the day. Cleaning the deck took _hours_ and managing the rigging on such a large sea vessel was utter torture on his back. And helping around in the kitchens while refraining from indulging in his usual enormous appetite was a pain so great he always felt tears prick at his eyes at the sheer longing for a hearty meal. It didn't help that the commanders assigned him various tasks across multiple divisions so he could 'decide which he'd prefer the most by familiarising him with each division's duties'.

He only ended up exhausted after a day's work. Which led to missed meals because he slept in, and then racing to complete the other tasks he should have done in the morning. It took only a week for Ace to have completely messed up his daily routine and sleep schedule. He sighed softly to himself as he stared at the palms of his hands. Maybe he wasn't built for a Yonko crew. Maybe they wrong and he didn't match up to the infamous powers of the strongest crew in the world.

Wouldn't be the first time he'd be such a failure at something so important to him anyway.

Now all he had to do was wait for his narcolepsy to re-destabilise to complete the picture-perfect situation.

Ace let out another resigned sigh as he dragged himself to his feet. He had to help sharpen the training weapons by noon today. Guess that was goodbye to lunch as well.

* * *

It had been a week since the card incident, and Marco had to say he was not pleased one bit to discover Ace had continued his streak of disengaging from the crew. The other commanders had gone out of their way to include him in their division's activities in their suspicion that they weren't targeting the kid's specific interests (whatever they were) to lure him in.

It never worked. The kid would promise to attend and then not show up. It was quickly running past tolerable to downright offensive. It didn't help one bit when Ace always apologised with that downtrodden expression, with the same old excuse that he had fallen asleep.

The blonde knew his siblings were as perplexed as he was. They had tried to speak with the kid, but he always seemed so distracted or lethargic they hadn't the heart to push further.

Marco let out a breath. Whatever it was, he hoped the kid would sort it out soon. Before Oyaji caught wind of things and demanded to know why Ace hadn't integrated well despite the long weeks.

"Ace, yoi," he greeted as he walked over to the still form slouching over the dining table. His eyebrows twitched when that same form suddenly shot up to attention.

"Marco!" the kid said a little too loudly in the silence of the mess hall as he wiped at his face almost frantically. "Did you need something?"

Marco's gaze flicked to the empty plates and then to the kid, feeling a little confused at the harried response. Did the kid get lazy after a full meal he chose to laze around instead? Not that it should matter, he absently thought, given that new recruits hardly had things to do until they joined a division.

He smiled mildly at Ace's expectant look. He held up the papers in his hand and waved it at him. "I came to check on you before your mission tomorrow. Do you have any concerns for it?"

Contrary to the excitement the older man had expected, the raven-haired pirate looked strained at the subject. "Um, not really. Just check in on one of the islands under your protection, check out the reason for the radio silence, and hover for a week at least until we get the all-clear before we return."

Marco nodded. That sounded about right. A simple mission in the New World that needed no commanders present. "Any questions about the team you'd be heading with?"

"Five other members from the second division, to meet them at dawn on Monday and we'd set sail and reach the island by noon. Listen to Hoshi's instructions, follow the team, and don't do anything without first informing them," Ace recited dutifully. "All emergency calls are to be made through Hoshi's den-den or through the emergency den-den designated to Mini Moby. If anything happens that we can't handle, we are to call you directly as you'd be near enough to fly over within the hour."

"Aren't you the model student," the blonde murmured under his breath. Then, in a louder voice, he said, "Have you been coping well, yoi?"

Unlike the previous time he'd asked, Ace only shrugged carelessly as if without pausing for thought. His grey eyes took on a faraway look. "Just a little tired," he said. "I just feel a little tired."

"Is…" Marco suppressed a sigh. He shouldn't press. If Ace didn't want to tell him how he really felt, then it wasn't his place to insist. "If you have any concerns, feel free to approach me to let me know. You can approach Teach too, yoi, if you're more comfortable with him. He's been in the second division for over a decade, so you would be learning from one of our bests still, even if he's not a commander," he said quietly.

Without another word, the older pirate turned and left.

**Author's Note:**

> To all the times Ace didn't turn up for group activities, yes, he had fallen asleep. I don't really know the point of this chapter, but hey, it's self-indulgent so I'm pretty good with it.
> 
> To discuss this chapter a bit, if you would be interested, I did wonder if Ace was too OOC here. But in this fic, I see Ace as a teenager who's had a very rough life. He lived in the rough environment of a forest, with little adult figures, and was himself burdened with the care of a hyperactive Luffy.
> 
> He's made hard decisions all his life, and somehow he always makes it through. This, coupled with his natural arrogance, eventually led him to Whitebeard. It is here that everything he's ever held fast to was knocked off so quick he floundered and panicked. He began to realise that he wasn't as strong as he desperately believed he was. Here, before him, were an entire crew who were so much more experienced and powerful that he was outclassed by many of them. I think this would have naturally affected his confidence in his abilities. Though he joined for the love of family (for his original journey had sought to seek his self-worth and he is affirmed through familial love), Ace doesn't quite know who he is when he isn't the powerful and all-knowing one.
> 
> But he enjoys having his new crew dote on him (though he doesn't understand why his heart beats so strongly when they do) and he's afraid they may withdraw the attention if he proved somehow that he wasn't worthy of being a Whitebeard. He doesn't understand still why they wanted him, and it is this confusion that drives him to work his absolute best- even if it means working long hours, or hiding how much he has to eat and his narcolepsy.
> 
> In this fic, Ace adores Marco the most because Marco scolds him (to Ace, that is a sign of affection, for it is the same way he cared for Luffy), but the blonde also dotes on him, cares for him, and overall guides him when he is confused. To Ace, it makes him - who has always doubted the worth of his existence - feel important and affirms that his unregulated emotions are alright to have. For Ace, this brings out the repressed child in him too. He's experiencing for the first time having someone (multiple someones even) looking out for him. While it challenged his natural instinct to take lead, a large part of him desires to be sheltered and guided as well.
> 
> To put it plainly, Ace is someone with many feelings and is confused by them all.
> 
> I have so much more to write, but anything else and they wouldn't be relevant to this chapter anymore. Do let me know what you think!
> 
> Do review! :)


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